


We Wish You A Batty Christmas

by starzandstrip3s



Category: Batman (1966), Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies 1989-1997), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Batman: The Animated Series, The Batman (Cartoon)
Genre: Anti-Villain, Batman Adventures, Batman References, Batman villains, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Canon Gay Relationship, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Christmas Music, Christmas Presents, Christmas Special, Dick Grayson is Robin, Gay Male Character, Inspired Characters, M/M, Minor Catwoman, Original Character(s), Rogues Gallery, batman rogues - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:53:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starzandstrip3s/pseuds/starzandstrip3s
Summary: In an attempt to pester Batman during a holiday he is noted not to be enthusiastic towards, Calendar Man devises a most bothersome plan to enlighten the brooding one with Christmas spirit. Meanwhile, Ethan must find his own spirit when hunting the perfect gift for his partner in crime. Will both of them succeed, or will they become just as batty as the caped crusader?





	We Wish You A Batty Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers,
> 
> Wishing you all a happy holiday and a bat-tastic new year! 
> 
> Cheers to 2019! ;)
> 
> -Meg

 

 “Okay - back it up,” Cassie thought aloud, frosty plumes darting from her lips. “You want something useful-”                  

 

Ethan walked easily beside her, hands shoved firmly in the slants of his peacoat as he corrected her summary.  

 

“Practical.”  

 

“Right, practical. Something practical but incredibly mushy,” she continued.

 

With a slight grimace, he shook his head.

 

“ _Sentimental_.”

 

He took off his glasses for a moment to swipe the fog away, before plopping them back on with a breathy laugh.

 

“I’m not a smitten loser, honestly.”

 

Not hearing a reply, he glanced over to Cassie smiling into her bundled up scarf.

 

“Anyway,” he began after clearing his throat, his cheeks slowly fading from the slightly exaggerated pink they had become, “You have known Johnny longer than Marco, so hopefully I can get a few direct hints of the perfect gift this year. Not that gifts are the most important aspect, but still...”

 

They maneuver their way around an empty construction site dominating their path, trying not to bump into focused Gothamites, on their way to whatever important business that justifies plowing through human traffic.  

 

Cassie tilted her head towards her friend, giving a closed-mouthed grin in reply that scrunches up her own frames.

 

“I’m flattered, Mr. Kepler. And, I don’t blame you about not going to Marco. Although he is the type of best friend to not know these essential answers, this is a woman’s calling.”   

 

“Your confidence is inspiring, Miss. Maragos.”    

 

“ _Ms_.”

 

With a puzzled expression, Ethan holds open the door to their destination, a quaint cafe that fills the street with the aroma of lavender and espresso.  

 

“Why _M_ -”

 

She passes, turning to face him in the entryway.

 

“Just something to keep private,” she shrugs, running a hand through her fair locks. With a pause, she then adds coyly, “Besides, don’t want anyone thinking I’m a smitten loser or anything, how _embarrassing_.”          

 

*****

 

A week later, just after witching hour, Zodiac and Calendar Man roam the rooftops of the city. They’re not up to any scheme in particular. In fact, that seemed to be the problem tossed about in conversation lately. During the holiday season, one would think that the corrupt and mischievous would be thriving, being that any plan would be a disruption of wanted harmony. However, in Gotham, this time of year was oddly quiet besides the occasional robbery or heist with a festive theme, such as a group of bandits that recently looted the nearby corner store in reindeer costume.    

 

“What a wasted opportunity to really mess around,” Calendar Man remarked as they jump to the adjacent building, holding himself up when a sole slides against a patch of ice. “It’s like everyone has gone into hibernation or something.”

 

Zodiac glances back at his partner, then shuffles through the pileup to the edge.

 

“Why don’t you come up with something, then?”

 

“I’ve been thinking about it, but just can’t work out an idea. Too bored.”

 

“ _How Calendar Man stole Christmas_ ,” Zodiac mused. “Wait, he doesn’t. Instead, he watches game network all day and complains.”  

 

Calendar Man sarcastically laughs in return, joining the others side. It’s beginning to snow again from murky indigo clouds, leading to both crossing their arms for warmth.  

 

“Better than being out here,” the blond mutters with a shiver. “You know what? I take back what I said. This is why no one-”

 

“Hold that thought,” Zodiac interrupted, pointing at a shadow darting into an alley down the street.

 

Without comment, they both scale down the fire escape ladder on the side of the building and chase after the figure heading toward downtown. It becomes disorientating as they blindly follow the unknown, only catching glimpses of it as they weave in and out of side streets.The duo lose their sighting for a moment, panting at a crossroad.

 

“Where’d they go?” Calendar Man asked, knowing well enough that his accomplice has not the slightest idea themselves.

 

A pair of ears glimmer in the streetlight up ahead before vanishing into another alley, propelling them both forward once again.

 

Zodiac and Calendar Man stop in the entrance of the alley, warily peeking in.

 

“Stay here,” Zodiac instructed with an outward hand.  

 

The striped rogue raises a brow, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.

 

“If that thing doesn’t kill me, your cuteness definitely will.”  

 

Zodiac rolled his eyes, yanking his gloves tightly back into position. “I’m being serious, here.”

 

“So am I.”

 

“Look, as much as you just want to run in and entice it out like a deranged pied piper, perhaps take a pass on this one? I don’t have the most positive intuition right now.”

 

Calendar Man pretended to inspect his nails on one hand, despite being covered by his glove.

 

“In other words, you don’t trust me.”

 

“Of course I do..” Zodiac huffed, “I just...because...you’re so...You know what? Fine. I give up. Go for it.”    

 

With a satisfied nod, Calendar Man marches into the enclosure of the dead end alley, his silhouette disappearing after a few steps. Zodiac follows cautiously, hand on his pendent laying across his chest.  

 

“We know you’re in here. And, uh, we don’t want to hurt you, either.” Calendar Man called, his voice echoing around them.

 

Zodiac relaxed ever so slightly in his boots. Perhaps he underestimated his boyfriend and his coercive tactics, that would hopefully prevent them from getting sniped in the dark.     

 

When the other gets no response, he mockingly adds, “Show yourself, don’t be a pussy!”  

 

“ _Johnny_ ,” Zodiac hisses, “Really?”    

 

“What?” he replies bemused. “Can’t I just tell them out how it is? They’re - hey, knock it off.”

 

“Knock _what_ off?”

 

“The pendent poking into my shoulder blade. It’s sharp, did you do something to it?”    

 

Zodiac freezes to the spot, silently loading his pendent into firing position.

 

“Whatever you do....don’t move.”

 

“That wasn’t you?.....was it?” Calendar Man says meekly, before letting out a gasp and stumbling into Zodiac.  

 

A pair of saffron eyes gleam brighter in front of them, before settling back into a soft glow.

 

“Satisfied?” spoke the sultry, albeit obviously annoyed, voice.

 

“Catwoman,” Zodiac addresses politely, “Apologies for following you. We were just curious of what you were running away from. I’m Zodiac, this is Calendar Man.”

 

“Hi,” the masked one in reference squeaks out, before coughing and adding, “Sorry, for. You know - being an idiot. As usual.”    

 

Catwoman’s masked eyes narrow, creasing underneath.

 

“If you must know, I wasn’t running from anyone.”

 

“You just got up - got up and sprinted around the city at three in the morning. Because, you _felt_ like it,” Calendar Man summarizes slowly, obviously attempting to hold in snide comments and somehow forgetting the last time he provoked her seconds ago.  

 

“Meow,” Catwoman replies bluntly.     

 

“Ignore him,” Zodiac counters, “He means to say that all is well now that we know you’re safe.”

 

Catwoman’s eyes narrow further into slits, before widening with a slow blink.

 

“Whatever. What brings you two here?” she sighs.

 

“Looking for inspiration. It’s an odd time of year, to say the least.”

 

Catwoman makes a sound of agreement, and there is a shuffling as she adjusts her stance.  

 

“Oh, that’s nothing new. Once Bat starts _really_ moping around Christmas, most of us get bored and wait until he’s back to normal. He’s been like this long before anyone started to play with him around this time. It’s no fun beating the shit out of someone who wants to be punished.”   

 

“Says the woman in leather with a whip,” Calendar Man hums, leading to Zodiac elbowing him to keep quiet.

 

Interest peaked, Zodiac takes hold of the conversation again. “So, Batman is the reason behind this lack of anything? Why?”

 

“We all have ideas. Some better than others. I think it’s simple as memories and a man-child with a victim complex. Love the guy when I need him, but. The _baggage_.”   

 

“What if that is used for an advantage? Instead of attacking him like he expects and hopes for, why not just approach from a different angle.”

 

“He needs to be inconvenienced,” Calendar Man advises, “Nothing bothers an angsty mood like someone who can push their buttons.”  

 

Gradually, a simper graces her lips.    

 

“It’s the season of giving, Calendar Man. Perhaps Batman needs a reminder...consider this one a   _purrfect_ fit for you.”    

 

*****

 

Ethan pulled open the door to Noonan’s Bar, quickly shutting it before the night chill and flurries drenched the entryway carpet. Unbuttoning his coat, he looked around at the other patrons. Not too many here before the place shut down for the evening. A group of older men were casually engaged in a game of pool on the far side of the room, while a couple were watching football on the plasma propped up behind the counter close to him. He spotted Johnny talking to a brunette on the far side of the bar counter as he pours her a drink of something from a large green bottle. She giggles at something he says to her, sucking in her bottom lip as she stares back at him with a glassy expression. Ethan shook his head at her subtlety, hanging his coat up on the stand by the door. He made his way over to the end of the counter and sat on the stool next to the girl. She ignored him, tracing the rim of her glass with a manicured fingernail.                            

 

“So,” Johnny continued, taking a moment to squint inside a glass he was wiping with a cloth, “to answer your question, that is what happens when you try to launch your cat to the moon.”  

 

“That’s _hilarious_ ,” she drawled, Johnny flashing her an appreciative smile in return.

 

“Thanks!” He reached down under the counter to grab a small glass, filling it with brandy. “See, Ethan? Stand-up material right here. I should go put in my two weeks, what do you say?”

 

Johnny slid the drink across to him, where it was gracefully caught by the others hand.

 

Ethan took a sip, eyeing him over the top. He then rested it upon a coaster and gave him a teasing frown.

 

“Go ahead, you have a week to move out.”

 

Johnny smirked, leaning across the bar in front of Ethan. He settled on his forearms, tilting his head in a challenging gaze.  

 

“Deal,” he agreed, then pulled away and took the brandy with him.       

 

He held his head back, searching for Noonan in the nearby office, then held a finger to his lips as he downed the drink and put it in the sink beside him.  

 

“One more, just one more,” the intoxicated woman slurred, holding up the same digit with her pinkie.

 

“Ohhh no,” Johnny replied, taking away her now empty glass. “You go back to your friends over there, and watch the game until the ride I’m calling for all of you gets here. Capeesh?”

 

She tries to protest, but Ethan ends up guiding her by the elbow to the couple by the door. When he returns, Johnny is putting away the tip she had left alongside her bill.

 

“If I remember correctly, you put the cat in a box upon on a seesaw, and jumped out of a tree onto the other side?” Ethan queried, sliding back onto the stool.

 

“It was a rocket ship, not a box. Have some imagination.”

 

“And sent Poppy _flying_ into the stratosphere-”

 

“Poop.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“It was named _Poop_ , not Poppy.”

 

“How am I not surprised.”

 

“I was an eight year old boy with the freedom to name it anything. Clearly I was comically inclined back then, too. Miss that cat, he ran away not long after. Probably got run over or something.”   

 

“Speaking of cats,” Ethan sing-songed in his monotone way, before settling into a hushed tone, “Have you thought of anything based on what you know who said?”     

 

Before parting, Catwoman had passed on some helpful information regarding Batman to use in the planning stages. When asked if she would like to join in on the effort, she had curtly declined before leaving. Her reasoning aligned with wanting to keep her options open. However, it seemed clear to the both of them that she wished to keep her hands clean while still dumping off the bait.

 

Not that Johnny cared, he was more than willing to snatch that bait and cast it gleefully.

 

The Calendar fiend planted his palms on the bartop, drumming his fingers on the maple surface.

 

“Hmm, nothing concrete yet. You know me, I like to procrastinate until an idea is formed out of desperation and adrenaline.”   

 

“Well, you only got about...” Ethan pulled his phone out of pocket and flicked on the screen, “three days until Christmas Day.”   

 

Johnny waved him off with a guffaw.

 

“Plenty of time.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“It will be fantastic to ruin his angst strike. But, excited for presents too, of course.”

 

A flair of panic sprung up from Ethan’s stomach, but he swallowed it down. It was hard to avoid feeling guilty about a lack of gift now, the holiday being so close. Cassie had kept in touch since their lunch date last week, sending him links and offering places where they could check out. Nonetheless, nothing had caught his attention in the way he wanted it to happen so far.  

“I have yours wrapped already,” Johnny adds, breaking the thought coaster for a moment.

 

“ _You_ have already found something?”

 

“I know, right? But, didn’t want to leave it to the day.”

 

“A bit contradictory, don’t you suppose?”

 

Johnny affectionately pats the others hand on the countertop.     

 

“Priorities.”      

 

*****

 

The following night, Calendar Man had only himself for company. Ethan claimed he had some of his his own work to catch up on, whatever that may be, but encouraged some fresh air after being cooped up all day in the apartment. Thus, he threw a black hoodie over his costume and  left before he could change his mind. Now, he sat ignoring the biting wind, sitting upon the ledge of the trail bridge in Robinson Park.

 

He had an incredibly tempting chance to stir the pot when the most interested were not around at the moment. Joker was in Arkham, Mr. Freeze off the map, and Clock King was reportedly saving his involvement for a New Years extravaganza.    

 

Why then had it been frustrating to figure out how to proceed? Any other time, he would be far more efficient in coming up with ridiculous ideas.

 

“ _Think_ ,” he commanded out loud.           

 

He glanced down at the frozen stream beneath him, letting his mind drift amongst the blurry colours of his outfit glinting back.

 

“What would mess with that weirdo?”

 

Calendar Man frowned, taking the question seriously. A thought that came to mind first was disrupting the peace of Gotham, naturally. But, that would be too easy.

 

No, this had to be personal.

 

He lacked knowledge of what would get to the man under the mask. However, that had no importance. Batman and his quirks were just as much a part of him, and that the rogues knew well.

 

Batman was no-nonsense, a corny enthusiast of the dramatic and mysterious, and a bit of a prude. Calendar Man could justify his lack of Christmas cheer based on those traits alone. But, there had to be a way to poke at all those attributes simultaneously.

 

Deciding that the bridge was not a good place to remain if he wished not to literally freeze his rear off, Calendar Man strolled through the deserted park as he continued to mull over the clump of a plan he constructed so far. Once reaching the border of Union Square, a place that always was thriving with action, he stuck to the outskirts and pulled the hood over his damp curls. As he was near a corner that would take him away from the center of the city, he heard a collection of gasps and applause.

 

Turning to glance over his shoulder, he then stopped and faced the crowd now that he saw, and heard, what caused the reaction. A few blocks from him, in the large space of the square was that gigantic tree he passed that was now lit up from the bottom by flood lights. A couple of speakers were also nestled at the bottom, and blasted out an obnoxious pop ballad of a dated holiday album.

 

The people surrounding the tree were delighted by the display, excitedly taking pictures and pointing at all the detail. An already beloved ornament was the topper, a gold shimmering bat with outstretched wings.

 

Calendar Man watched all this with indifference, before his eyes widened in realization.

 

Why take away the spirit when you can instead _give_ it full force?              

 

*****

 

While Johnny was out for the time being, Ethan decided to take advantage of the extra bed space to dramatically sprawl out and come up with Plan Z. Not “Plan Zodiac”, but the last ditch effort. Christmas Day was now two days from now, and he still had to figure out what gift to settle on. Cassie had provided her assistance, and he was grateful for her efforts. However, a woman’s touch was perhaps what he needed least.  

 

Well, no shit.

 

Ethan laughed bitterly at the unintended pun, flopping down to stare up at the whirring ceiling fan. It stared back at him unimpressed, each breeze a gentle smack.

 

After being distracted by the paddles for an uncomfortable twenty seconds, he concluded to himself that at this point, the selection would need to come from old reliable and its prime (panic) shipping. Crossing the room to fetch his laptop, he put down further arguments to stumble out into the cold to discover his prize for what felt like the hundredth time.

 

Not long later after putting in a few respectable keywords, he let himself fall down the rabbit hole of looking at anything that popped up in his recommendations. At this point, he would cash out anything just to complete his mission. Why is that the people we care for most leave us the most clueless to shop for? It’s not that we know them far less than we believe. Perhaps it is that we want to give them a piece of our soul, to show how much they mean to us, but are limited to finding items that illustrate our understanding of them as a token of thanks. If that is true, then Ethan felt that the perfectionism he strove for would be irrelevant no matter what.    

 

He found the selection of items odd, as these listings were far from the sort he would deem as beneficial to own. Row after row of kitsch merchandise galore, but at the same time made him feel an itch of familiarity.  

 

Scrolling down the page, his hand was about to continue on when it stalled, hovering above the keypad.

 

Ethan pursed his lips with a squint, then turned to look over to the empty side of the bed before looking back at what caught his attention on the screen.

 

This was far from practical, and definitely not sentimental by his definition.

 

This was stupid.

 

Really fucking stupid.

 

Tacky.

 

Would fit nowhere.

 

And, depressing when he thought about it.   

 

But, _this_.

 

It reminded him of Johnny instantly. Not because he believed his partner to be incredibly unintelligent or off-putting, since that was not him. In his determination to this year find something that showcased his gratitude with finesse, he had slightly misunderstood what would be truly meaningful in the first place. Appealing to interests alone are satisfying, and are indeed a piece of the recipient. Putting own criteria at the forefront is also pleasing, as Ethan acknowledged somewhat hesitantly to himself. However, now that he thought about it, people truly understand others through their stories. Each chosen word, paragraph, chapter in their lives is a portion of the people they become. Listening and reflecting these memories back toward the author with our support, from celebrating alongside them to being a comforting ally, not only demonstrates our understanding, but tightens our connecting string.  

 

After all, we are all meant to possess intricate differences. It is how they are acknowledged that is akin to giving a piece of one's soul in return, and what makes giving worthwhile.   

 

And give he would.

 

The be-speckled young man finally blinked, now seeing the page reappear into focus.

 

“Okay, enough of the enlightening monologue,” Ethan chided himself, straightening up from his trance. “I’m boring myself with the spirit of Christmas.”    

 

With the click of the mouse, it was done.     

 

_Add to cart._

 

*****

 

Christmas Day arrived swiftly, as did the package in the mail. Ethan wrapped it that morning while Johnny excitedly ran out the door to get festive donuts down the street for breakfast, as it was a tradition they had since moving in together and not having enough funds to splurge on a nice spread that year. He managed to shove the present under the bed just in time, as Johnny barged open the door not long thereafter.  

 

“They ran out of the peppermint cream ones,” he called from the entryway, “So, I had to get double of the cranberry puffs you think causes heartburn.”  

 

Ethan backed away from his hiding spot to instead lean nonchalantly against the door frame.

 

“What do you mean _think_? Not just throwing a fuss for the sake of it.”

 

Johnny grinned, placing them on the counter before tugging off his boots.

 

“Okay, fine. Maybe I just wanted to indulge in more of those.”

 

“Watch out, that metabolism of yours is going to slow down one day.”

 

As much as Johnny could agree to that, he instead reached into the box to grab a pastry and took a large bite while meeting the others eye.

 

“Hang on, need one before I sit down with them.”

 

“Just saying, keep that up today and you might not be able to fit into your costume.” Ethan made his way into the living room, sinking into his corner spot on the couch, its back facing the kitchen. “That is, if we are still going out?”

 

“Absolutely,” Johnny somewhat confirmed with a full mouth, tossing his boots by the door. Placing his coat over a chair beside the island, he added, “You will want to experience what I came up with, trust me.”  

 

“What will I like more, your present or this _experience_?” Ethan prodded, finally giving into sugary temptation by leaving his comfy spot, choosing what was left from the box.

 

Johnny crossed his arms, giving Ethan a playful accusatory look.

 

“Like one is better than the other, how dare you.”

 

Ethan remained silent, chewing his donut with a matching judgemental expression.

 

With a sigh, Johnny relented.

 

“Okay, you got me. You’ll have to let me know which is better. Let’s open presents now, I can’t wait any longer.”   

 

Johnny grabbed another donut to inhale on his journey and made his way toward the pantry, clearly his hiding spot.

 

Once settling on the couch with their respective gifts, Ethan placed the rectangular parcel on the ground beside him. Johnny fiddled with a smaller box in his lap, looking quizzically at whatever Ethan was trying to lean against the cushions.

 

“That’s...interesting.”

 

Ethan snorted, adjusting in his seat now that he was satisfied the item would stay upright.

 

“It is, but hopefully a good interesting.”

 

“Here, open yours first,” Johnny insisted, holding out the box.

 

Ethan took it, inspecting the silver wrapping paper and bow.

 

“You’re getting better at wrapping, not as much tape everywhere.”

 

“I may have had some help in that department. Just pretend it was me, though.”

 

He didn’t reply, just swallowed a smirk as he carefully unwrapped the box, only ripping where it was needed. Peeling the tape away that kept the lid shut, he then took off the top to glimpse inside.

 

“Oh, wow,” he commented, a laugh escaping him. “You remembered when I pointed this one out _months_ ago.”

 

Ethan pulled out a silver watch with a pristine sheen, accented with black roman numerals.

 

“Yeah, well. You said your other one wore out and all that...” Johnny replied, rubbing his hands together. “Turn it over.”

 

Ethan did as instructed, turning the watch over to see the back. On the reverse of the face, there was an engraving made.

 

_To making it count_

_Love always,_

_Johnny_

 

He grinned widely, something he tried to avoid most days, but he could not help himself. 

 

“The _Titanic_ quote really ties it together.”

 

“I know that movie gets dissed a lot by film snobs like you. But, hey, it felt right.”

 

“It’s perfect,” Ethan affirmed, glancing up at him while pulling the watch onto his wrist. “Really, thank you. I could not receive anything better.”

 

“Except for the _experience_?”

 

“No spoilers! I’ll let you know later. It’s your turn.”

 

Ethan passed over the package, careful not to knock it into the coffee table in front of them.

 

Not being as considerate with the wrapping paper, Johnny dove in with one hand, the other steadying the mystery that loomed over his head.

 

“What the _hell_ ,” he muttered, the back of a frame coming into view. “Did you commission a portrait of me or something?”

 

Ethan leaned his head on a fist, watching as Johnny nattered on to himself.

 

The blond swivelled the frame around, slapping a hand to his mouth and letting out a cackle. 

 

“No way! Is this Poop?” he asked in between gasps, pointing at the oil painting of an orange tabby in an astronaut suit, stoically floating in space. “This is _amazing_ , man!”

 

“I’m glad you like it. I never bought a present dedicated to a presumably dead cat or anything, but-”

 

Johnny held up a hand, eyes alight with joyful tears as he swiped a hand across his cheek.

 

“It’s fucking hilarious and he would be honoured, so I love it, too. And, I love you for finding this and indulging me with this stupid childhood thing. Thank you.”

 

“It’s not stupid, it’s you.”

 

“Thanks, I love a Christmas roast.”

 

“No, I meant that Poop and the time you spend with him means a lot to you,” Ethan clarified, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. “Therefore, it is...you. It’s hard to explain aloud.”

 

“Well, thanks for putting up with me,” Johnny stated quietly, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He sighed happily, then surveyed their apartment. “The only thing is...where are we putting this? You would be the person to know we certainly have no wall room.”   

 

“I did know that, but figured that we could find some sort of space for it in the meantime until we clear a wall.”

 

Johnny whistled, eyes widening.

 

“It’s a Christmas miracle, buying something that will only be clutter.”

 

“Worth it,” Ethan promised, standing up to stretch. “Come on, we got time to waste and donuts to eat. As said, to making it count.”

 

*****

 

Hours later, the two rogues sat across from city hall on the rooftop. The streets were oddly quiet compared to the norm, but Calendar Man’s buzzing excitement filled in the lack of ambiance.

 

“First thing is to get Batman out of his cave. That’s as simple as triggering the signal,” he stated, nodding to the GCPD headquarters down the street. “We use the payphone below to call them, then hide. We will be able to see all that’s happening on my phone, as the cameras I have set up are all connected to to this.”

 

Zodiac shifted in his crouch, contemplating what he had been told thus far.

 

“Not sure I’m following.”

 

“You’ll understand real soon. Here, would you like to start the show?” he offered, holding out a quarter to his partner.

 

“Uh, okay. What am I reporting in?”

 

“It’s nearly midnight on a weekday. I have no doubt that scrooge would be on patrol right now, so we can assume he’s on foot. Pick somewhere in that direction” he said, pointing west. “Everything is laid out for a few blocks there.”

 

The not so helpful advice in his head, Zodiac climbed down and did as he was told. Deciding the more realistic the better, he claimed to be a witness near an active break and enter at Killinger’s with the best worried voice he could muster on cue. He then went back and waited for what would be presumably something he would not forget, whether be out of amazement or cringe.  

 

“Now what?”

 

“Patience, star-boy. Won’t be long now.” 

 

As if the Bat-signal heard him, it flashed awake on cue.

 

“Ho ho ho,” Calendar Man beamed proudly. “Okay, once he starts heading in the direction we lead him to, those specific spots he likes with the darkest shadows will prove not even his sulking can keep Gotham’s Christmas spirit away. I made sure he will learn that tonight.”

 

Zodiac was about to request more detail about what he concluded was a prank more than anything, when they spotted the caped crusader and his trusty sidekick slinking out of a nearby street and heading toward Killinger’s.

 

Meanwhile, Calendar Man retrieved his phone and opened an app. A collection of live surveillance displays presented themselves on-screen, complete with an intruder status marking the top.

 

“You set up motion sensor cameras,” Zodiac deadpanned, before adjusting to a whisper. “Setting off an alarm where they hide?”

 

“Even better- look! They’re going for camera one!”

 

Sure enough, Batman leads the boy wonder into a particularly dismal corner down the street. For an instant, nothing out of the ordinary occurs.

 

However, a beep from the device in hand transmits to the camera below, suddenly illuminating the crowded space with a floodlight and blasts Mariah Carey’s falsetto from an attached speaker.

 

“Holy holidays, Batman!” Robin shrieks, palms over his ears as they stumble away, Batman visibly frazzled but attempting to remain calm.

 

“It’s alright, chum. Let us not become distracted from this tomfoolery, follow me.”

 

Calendar Man deactivates that position as they amble away, the other five options or so still visible.

 

“Get the idea?” he joked, smug undertone not hidden.

 

“Absolutely, pass me the control.”

 

They repeated the process five more times, watching as Batman became more unhinged as each hiding spot was ruined by the energetic ruse, and the rogues trying not to blow their cover from the bouts of laughter that emerged. Robin was not as affected by the following outbursts, but still reacted as any teenager would when being chastised, despite being on his best behaviour when with his mentor.

 

“I swear, it’s not me!” he whined, chasing Batman down the street. Instead of emitting some lesson of morality to the boy as he would have in normal circumstances, Batman instead ignored him and proceeded to stomp off as the diva screamed a note.

 

Zodiac turned to Calendar Man, shaking his head with amusement.

 

“Do I want to know how you came up with all of this?”

 

“Not really, it’s kind of a boring process.”

 

“Well, however you did this, it was just what he deserved. The _experience_ is tied with the watch. It’s impossible to decide.”

 

Calendar Man gave a hearty thumbs-up, then paused.

 

“You think Catwoman liked it?”

 

“I would hope so,” Zodiac answered. “But, I think you annoyed him enough to meet her standards, if I do say so myself..”

 

Not too far away on a rooftop of her own, a lone figure perched and took in the final moments of the scene below.

 

“Merry Christmas, boys,” whispered the crooked painted lips, before they too faded back into the silent night.   


End file.
